Reverence
by transcendently
Summary: AU; In Shibuya, the only God you can worship is yourself. Powerplay Sho/Beat.


AN: First TWENY fiction I've done, and I haven't even finished the second week, let alone the game; but Beat and Sho struck me as incredibly awesome characters, and I wanted to try writing something a bit different. Apologies in advance if I have deviated horribly from the characters' personalities. Also, as mentioned, this is AU. Please don't yell at me for any discrepancies between this work and the actual storyline because chances are I will have no clue as to what you're talking about. Thanks!

Warnings: Noncon. Asphyxiation. Violence. Heavy usage of expletives.

**Reverence  
**

_The road I walk is paved in gold, to glorify my platinum soul.  
I am the closest thing to God, so worship Me and never stop.  
My selfish blood run through my veins, I gave up everything for fame.  
I am the life that you adore. Now feed the rich and fuck the poor.  
_

He's tired.

Beat shifts his balance slightly, teetering over the ledge of 104, its gigantic television display flashing the hottest trends obscenely bright beneath him, even at two in the morning. Closing his eyes, it's slightly better, but even from up here, the cacophony of people down below drives bullets into his head, every voice carving a deep niche for itself into his skull, reminding him constantly, constantly, _constantly_ of the vapid wants of Generation Z. A sale going on, the latest must-see movie to watch, the Second Coming in the form of a new game console.

Any more of this and flinging himself off the building was a better alternative than listening to the insane orchestra of Shibuya. Still, he keeps his position, keeping the Noise in check lest they decided to enter the building's premises. He clutches at the skull at the end of his chain necklace, trying to keep a semblance of consciousness, gritting his teeth as he peers through the darkness intently. He was here for a reason, and if he's learned anything here in his time as a Reaper: sleep is for no one, least of all the dead.

Absentmindedly rubbing his bloodshot eyes, Beat sighs, falling back into a sitting position with his legs dangling off the side of the building, behind the gigantic electronic billboard. He scowls, fishing his pockets and flipping open his cell phone to check the time. Two forty. Beat snaps the phone shut and resists the temptation to hurl it off the building. The Reaper that had this post before him had informed him that within four hours, another would replace him. Either his phone was fucking up on him or the reaper with the next shift was being a douche, not bothering to take his place.

A swift "whoosh" and a sudden gust of wind behind him heralded the arrival of a fellow Reaper, flying in two hours late for the job. Scowling, Beat turns back to the newcomer, "Oi, what the frig is your problem, man?! I've been waiting for yer ass to get here fer…" his words die off, as he realizes, a bit belatedly, that the person wasn't his replacement.

Decked out in ripped jeans and a trench coat with his hands shoved into his pockets, the new arrival coolly smirks, cocking his head to the side as he surveys the recently inducted Reaper. "You were waiting for me, sine curve? Infinitely flattered."

Quickly, Beat gets onto his feet, not willing to keep his back against the man. He was already considered at the bottom of the barrel already, given that he's only been a Reaper for a mere two days. Nevertheless, the man before him gave off an uncomfortable vibe, one that told him to stay on guard. "Got the wrong person, bud." Beat honestly replies, "Not a clue as ta who you might be."

"Well then," the man smirks, sauntering over to Beat, "perfect time to set the vectors straight."

Beat blinks, but that fraction of a second was enough to lose track of the man. "Bwuh?"

A loud screech of a megaphone's feedback slams into his right ear, reverberating painfully. Beat instinctively covers his ears, wincing at the pounding sensation in his eardrums. "Wellllllllcomeeee ladies and gentlemen to the first of many 'Setting the Hapless Sine Curve Straight', folks! This is your host, the man of the hour, your GM, Minamimoto Sho!" He sketches an overly exaggerated bow and looks up, smirking at Beat's scowling face.

"Your expressions aren't adding up, you know!" Sho taunts in an overly annoying sing-song way, waving the megaphone in his hand. "A bit too Cartesian (1), don't you think?"

"Fuck you!" Beat snaps, finally getting back on his feet. He clenches his fists, more than ready to start punching. "You ain't the boss of me!"

"Incorre—" Sho stops in mid-sentence, pulling back from a swing suddenly aimed at his face. He snarls, his face transforming into an angry leer as he drops the megaphone to catch Beat's wrist and sharply tugs the boy forward, letting go to upset the boy's balance and slamming an elbow into the back of Beat's head as he descended, letting him crumple onto the floor.

Sho stops, shoulders relaxed, and his previous enraged expression makes way for a slow, easy grin. Ambling over, he hooks a foot underneath Beat's body, bringing it up to flip the boy face up. Smiling sadistically at the contorted, pained expression of the boy below him, Sho snags Beat's chin with his index and thumb, snapping the boy's head up and forcing them to lock eye contact. "You're a fiery little sine curve, aren't ya?" And without warning, Sho pulls back his arm, swiftly punching the boy in the face.

"That was a naughty little calculation you tried back there," Sho hisses into Beat's ear, flicking his tongue out to take a swipe of the outer shell, slightly teasing the earlobe before slamming his fist into Beat's stomach and jaw repetitively. "Do. You. Want. To. Try. That. Pico. Bullshit. Again?", punctuating his strikes with the rhetorical question.

Beat growls, blood trailing down the sides of his mouth, teeth stained dark red, eliciting an even wider grin from the Game Master. "D'awww, the little sine curve got his frequencies all in a jumble" he coos, underlined with a layer of malice as he steps closer, close enough to bump noses with the new Reaper. Beat grits his teeth, scrabbling to keep a reasonable distance from the crazed man, but as it was, he was close enough to feel Sho's every breath on his skin.

"Now let's make one thing zetta, no- _yotta_ clear, sine curve," Sho bites out, his fingers trailing from jawline to neck, doused in the tell-tale red liquid that trickled down the boy's face and leaving streaks along the way as he slowly wraps his hand around Beat's neck, "I own you."

"No you—aah…" Beat stammers out, only to fall silent as Minamimoto calmly curls his hand inwards, thumb on the pulse and digging his nails into the skin.

The hand around his throat continues to tighten as Sho holds him in the awkward position, the GM's face moving even closer towards Beat's. Quickly, his tongue darts out, licking up a line of blood up to Beat's mouth before forcibly prying open his lips and violating the boy's mouth. Beat thrashes violently at the intrusion, mind spinning as Sho pinches his nose shut as well as occupying his mouth, his windpipe narrowing from Sho's deathgrip. The effect of all three was creating a spiraling, painful buildup of carbon dioxide in his lungs, threatening to knock him into unconsciousness. The GM above him barely reacted to the sudden vigour his captive was showing, still having his mouth clamped on Beat's, swiping over teeth and tongue, lapping up the blood in his mouth and making quiet murmurs of approval. Beat could do little but push weakly on the GM's chest, not physically able to put up any sort of substantial resistance. His heart slows down, pulse weakening, senses numbing, finally using up the last of his adrenaline to fend off Minamimoto.

Sho finally pulls back from the violent kiss, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and spits out red saliva to the side, hovering over the boy as he kept a firm grip around Beat's steadily dying pulse."As your _Game_ Master, I lead you; as your _Goddamned_ Master, I fucking own you, sine curve, and if you don't bring up your amplitude, I will _flatline_ you," underlining his intent with slamming Beat back down onto the ground, the boy's head cracking pavement as he made contact.

"G-guh…" Beat rasps out, sucking in air as he lays crumpled on the floor, every fiber in his body feeling as though on fire. This was beyond humiliation; this was degradation in every conceivable manner. He tries summoning up the will to get up, but he simply lays there, trying not to flicker into permanent unconsciousness. "God…god…"

Sho barks out in laughter, finally getting up and dusting off the imaginary dirt off his pants. Finished, he brings up a hand in a mock wave of goodbye, unfurling his pitch-black wings and shakes his head, imprinting what was already endlessly running through the boy's head.

"_God is dead in Shibuya."_

**End**

AN: (1) Rene Descartes, as one of the most brilliant minds of the 17th century was credited with the Cartesian coordinate system. He is also well known for his philosophy, one of which is Cartesian doubt, doubting everything possible in order to recreate an only truthful base of understanding. Eventually, he builds up to the idea that God exists, and recognizes this as an inescapable truth.

The lyrics are from Innerpartysystem's "Don't Stop" amazing song with an equally amazing mv. Go check it out.


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